


Grapes From The Thorns.

by Cliff



Category: The Path (TV)
Genre: 8r, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cults, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Religion, Spoilers, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, Willful Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 22:18:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10649193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliff/pseuds/Cliff
Summary: A reflection on the relationship between Felicia and Cal. Theres a lot of water under that bridge.Implications. Nothing graphic





	Grapes From The Thorns.

_“Stay close to The Light, and The Light will provide you with everything you need._  
_Of your own volition, you can't overcome your fear when it conspires with your pride or your mute darkness or your willful denial._  
_These obstacles to forgiveness are harder to overcome._  
_But to overcome them is to know The Light's abiding love.”_

_The Ladder 8R._

  
She was always close to the truth. She remembered always to thank her mother for that. She had asked once, why the world had to be so unfair, why they had to live in fear of predujuce and bigotry.

“ Felicia. This is how the world is. But don’t you dare believe thats how it _should_ be.”

She held tight to that truth her whole life and fought for it.

She had not come from a religious home. Despite her grandfather’s baptist convictions, her parents were staunch socialists. She believed in people, in the unwavering human ability to fight for what they loved. For one another. For a better future.

She had navigated the turbulent seventies and found a home with Bill in the counter culture. Found a community with fellow travellers, as she called them, being an Ignorant then. She hadn’t known to call them soul-mates, she didn’t yet believe in a soul.

It was The Doctor and his Shaman who had woken her up. It was the medicine. the first time, she hadn’t believed before. At first she had been so sick and wondered why this was supposed to be so much better than Acid.

Four days of Hell… It left her shaking, weak, left her memories of past wrongdoing skittering across her skin. The curl of her grandfather's belt around her legs. The screeches of the white-trash children as she walked to school. The terror of that first protest with her parents, when her father had been knocked over the head with a police baton, and they and been hit with a water-cannon. Things from long ago that she didn’t know she remembered. Things unlocked that she hadn’t known she knew.

She had wept, until she thought she had no tears left, and woke in William’s arms. With Steven at her feet and Silas holding her hand. A new person. Delivered into this world by Dr. Steven Meyer.

And so he took them on a walk through the jungle that lasted days. To the summit of Huayna Picchu. Where they made camp, and took the medicine once more.

This time it was different. _Clear. Real._

She burned her hands when she grasped the rung. She wasn’t the one. She wasn’t ready.

There are some people who shouldn’t ascend to heights like that. No. Felicia didn’t gain the wisdom of The Light.

Instead she was gifted with Faith unwavering. And it was beautiful. On that Faith she built a life.

And not just her.

******************

Ten years later, Steve’s family farm had been transformed into a community. Fostering kindness and love to those who needed it. And did they _ever_ need it. The sheer amount of sad souls in need of love. He opened his arms to them. And took them in. And healed many of them.

At first it was tents, yurts and teepees. She remembered the ramshackle nature of the farm in early years and wondered at the orderly houses and beautiful gardens that sprung up in later decades. The growth, the loving work done by their children. 

“ By their fruits ye shall know them.” Said the gospel. And Steve’s tree was bearing beautiful fruit.

She remembered the first winter, before she and Bill had bought the old ranch near San Diego. Before they had any desire to be elsewhere.

Before She and Steve had found Mike Roberts and his son that November night.

His wife, he said, was hopeless case. Seething, violent and poisonous. He had left with his son and travelled for a few months, living all over, until Steve and Felicia found him and little Calvin warming themselves around a trash fire. They’d fled the shelter. Someone from child services had come there with the intention of taking Calvin into custody. They had run.

The man had been shaking with delirium tremens. Desperate to quit drinking for the sake of his child. Desperate to spend the little they had on food instead of booze. Not managing so well to achieve it. He was huddled against a wall, pale as a corpse and dripping sweat. At first she thought he was alone. But as he looked up at them, the edge of his oversized coat fell away to expose the head of the small child huddled under the filthy wool in his lap. A thin, pale little face looked out warily.

  
“ Its not much.” Steve had told them in that wonderful way that made people feel safe. “ Not much yet. But we can offer you somewhere warmer, safer and kinder than the streets. And we will heal you and take care of you both.”

New arrivals were kept overnight in the old farmhouse. It needed work, there was no hot water and only gas lamps for light but with its old stove it was warmer than the alternatives. They both needed a bath and possibly medical attention.

Mike had been reluctant to hand the child over when they arrived. But with many assurances that they had no ill intention, Bill had persuaded him to come with him to the bathroom. Some novices had filled the tub with boiled water and bicarbonate. The man could get cleaned up and then detox in the back bedroom for a few days. Bill would check him for injuries and gently probe for information that might help his healing.

But it was also a way to separate him from Calvin for a while, so that she and Steve could check the child.

When she took him from his father’s arms he hadn’t made a sound. She sat him at the kitchen table. They fed him first, while they heated a big tub of water on the stove for his bath. The way he practically inhaled his sandwich and glass of juice had Steve and Felicia looking meaningfully at each other over the boy's head.

His father had said he was five years old. He looked closer to three. When they undressed him Felicia had repressed a gasp at his emaciation, ribs sticking out and pot bellied. This wasn’t just the work of a few months on the road or even living on the streets. This child had been neglected for a long time.

Then, as Steve moved the lamp closer and they bathed the silent child in a big metal basin, it became apparent, as the dirt washed off, that the dark patches weren’t all dirt. There were bruises covering his tiny frame also.

Steve blinked tears out of his eyes and spoke gently to the little thing. Not about the bruises, or his father. But about how wonderful tomorrow was going to be. When his daddy was feeling better, and when the sun came out and melted the snow he would play outside with the other children. And he sang to him, she can’t remember the song now.

*****************

So she really did understand the preferential treatment Steve afforded Calvin. Even if it did sometimes border on nepotism. Not that she’d ever say it. Especially after meeting the boy’s awful mother when she visited during that brief time that she tried to reconnect. After his father started drinking again, after that beating he gave the boy, after his father left.

Cal had been only nine years old when Mike left. And long before that had clearly preferred Steve to his own father. He could scarcely be separated from him. Clinging to Steve whenever he could. Evenings round the fire, Cal would sit in Steve’s lap, not his father's, and walk with his hand in Steve’s. When his father transgressed and drank he would slip into Steve’s room to sleep. Steve indulged him, saying that the only cure for Cal’s type of damage was all the love they could muster. If Steve’s one flaw was being too kind to a neglected and abused child… Well… If Steve had flaws… If you could call it a flaw.

But still. As the boy grew it might have been no bad thing to send him to school. He was very isolated, very unlike other children. She didn’t see how unlike until she compared her own kids, or saw him playing with the Armstrong girls. He was so serious, so quiet, so _precocious_. Like a little adult in a child’s body, it was downright unsettling. Then from time to time so _angry,_  liable to lash out with little to no provocation, like his father.

 _‘Like his father’_ , became the mantra of adults explaining Cal’s damage, his rage, his sorrow, his tendency to sneak alcohol when he was upset… Like his father.

On Steve’s advice, Bill and Felicia had bought the ranch and moved across country to start a new compound on the west coast. But they didn’t break ties with the New York compound. Far from it. They returned often for inspiration and advice. Often Steve would visit them in San Diego and bring the boy with him. Cal, he said, would become anxious and suffer panic attacks when he was away. It was a problem. They were working on it.

He always played nicely enough with the girls. But he bothered her. He was too quiet. Always listening, she felt. 

When Cal was eleven years old he tried to run away. Felicia and Bill were visiting New York and had been there for the drama. He’d had some kind of disagreement with Steve. Most likely Steve had actually said no to him for once. She and Bill caught him at a downtown bus stop. His bag on his shoulder. Ready to return to his parents? Wanting to explore? Seek his fortune? There were many guesses. He was taciturn as ever, refusing to explain himself.

They sat around the table outside while Steve took Cal in for unburdening and reflection. Sarah and Tessa lingered outside the farmhouse. Worried.

“ Will he be ok daddy?” They asked “ Will he leave us?”

Hank Armstrong thought they ought to cut the kid some slack.

“He’s almost a teenager. Hormones all over the place… He’s at a difficult age.”

“ A dangerous age” Gabby added. “Remember what Steve said about adolescent brains being hyper-sensitive?”

“ Our girls are the same.” Bill agreed. “You have to be so careful though. This is when you lose them.”

Felicia had seen Cal. When they bought him back to the compound. The boy had practically wilted when he walked back in. The truth tugged at her skirts then. And she brushed it away.

“ He’s spoiled. “ She concluded. “ He needs a firmer hand or he’ll end up like his father.”

Bill clicked his tongue at her. “ You’ve seen what a ‘firm hand’ did to him over the years. We must trust to The Light. And The Light says gentleness and love are the way to healing.”

“ Saying no once in a while can be kindness too Bill.” She stood firm. “ If we aren’t careful that boy will grow up thinking he’s a small god.”

******************

She can remember exactly what she was doing when she heard the news three years later. She had been helping her daughter Kathleen with her History homework when she got a call from Steve himself. Asking her for advice. Such a thing hadn’t happened before.

“ You’re a parent.” He said desperately. “ What can I do?”

Cal was fourteen, she remembered, the same age as Kathleen. They’d had a fight, Steve said. Cal had filled a backpack with stones and walked into the lake.

It was pure luck that Steve had followed him, planning to apologise, and caught him before he went under for good. She tried to imagine her own baby trying to take her life. Her own dear heart being in that much pain. As hard as she found it to love Calvin, her heart broke for him. And for Steve.

She felt a surge of anger at the boy’s parents. There was more pain there than any of them knew. She wondered, not for the first time, if there was worse than physical abuse in the boys early years. If Mike was worse than they'd thought.

No one else knew what Cal had done.

“ I’ve tried everything Felicia. But his damage is so deep… I think I’m too close to him… Too close to see the solution through my own pain.” It was the first time she’d heard Steve sound panicked, and the last.

Felicia didn’t even hesitate.

“Start him on the ladder.” She advised. “ He needs the light.”

“He’s only fourteen.”

“ I know.” She said. “ And normally I’d say wait. But this is an extreme situation wouldn’t you say?”

“ Maybe you’re right..." He sighed. “It would help him get to the root of a few things. Give him new purpose.”

“ Exactly! If he finds true purpose in The Light he won’t feel despair like that again.” She tried to sound reassuring. She was, after all, sure.

“ Steve?”

“ Yes?”

“ Would you like me to come out?”

He paused. Then replied that no, he would be fine. With renewed confidence he started Cal on the ladder, the youngest novice they’d ever had.

The truth tugged at Felicia’s skirts again, and she brushed it off. And they didn’t go back to New York for quite a while.

****************

The next time she saw Cal he was in his early twenties. Steve had sent Cal out to report on the running of the West Coast Compound. Cal was already 7R. He had climbed every rung with Steve, who was giving him more responsibility than he normally would give a 7R. But Cal was special, and boy did he know it. He had an immense amount of confidence, or maybe bravado. He could charm the birds out of the trees. But Felicia Saw him.

As they sat on the porch and he spoke laughingly, and with some authority, on the growth of the New York compound. The great things they were doing, the campus they were building.

“ We’ll soon have over a hundred members on site!” He said excitedly. I really think we’re going to achieve great things with the right mindset.”

“ And what about you Cal?” She asked. “ How are _you_ son?”

“ I…” He paused with a quizzical smile. “ Why… I thought I was telling you? I’m excited, working towards great things. Climbing the rungs…”

“ I mean, in a personal sense.” She smiled kindly. “ My girls are around your age and ministering, socialising, _dating_ … Anyone special in your life Cal?”

A shadow passed over his face briefly. It didn’t leave his eyes, even though he smiled.

“ I… Not at the moment. I thought there was for a while… But…I er…” He laughed nervously, his facade cracking alarmingly. “ I think dating isn’t really my area… It’s… Complicated for me.”

“ Ah… Enough said.” She said softly, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. It was a shame, handsome boy like him, unable to find a girlfriend. “ It can be hard, with the way we live, to find someone compatible.”

_The truth tugged, she brushed it off._

She wasn’t stupid. She knew unbridled ambition when she saw it. His obsession with growth. She’d have to keep and eye on this one.

Underneath she spied the unhappy, silent little boy, who lied constantly, out of habit, even though there was no punishment to fear. She saw the starved scrap with the protruding ribs. She saw the clingy child at the campfire. Clutching a man who wasn’t his father. Close, one hand inside Steve’s shirt.

She was transported back to a moment, seen through a cloud of Cannabis and campfire smoke. A summer night, long ago. She lay beside the fire, eyes half closed. Beside Bill, and Hank and Gabby, Kodiak, Richard and Jeramiah. All in a beautiful half doze, looking at the stars. The children screaming happily as they chased fireflies.

And she heard Steve, who sat near her, Calling Cal over. Her vision swam with stars and fireflies and she turned her head and saw them through a haze of light and smoke.

“ Come to the tent with me little one.” He’d said.

Cal had said nothing or hesitated too long to reply. Standing with his little hands behind his back. Doubtful before Steve. She’d never seen that before.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” Steve had asked.

And the boy had immediately run to him and walked with him, hand in hand. To the teepee.

_As sure as a trained dog. With love as his leash._

And the truth tugged, and she hated him a little for it

And he knew that she Saw him, and hated her a little for it.

And they smiled at one another and sipped their ice tea in the California sun.

 

  
_Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit._

_Matthew 12:33-37;_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If I get enough interest I may write further character studies. Depending on what people would like to see examined. Let me know.


End file.
